By what we have already said, you see our intentions; and therefore we leave all other particulars to your special care and conduct; and rest, 'your friend,' OLIVER P.*

Lockhart, both General and Ambassador in these months, is, as we hinted, infinitely busy with his share in the Siege of Dunkirk, now just in its agony; and before this Letter can well arrive, has done his famous feat of Fighting, which brings Turenne and him their victory, among the sandhills there.56 Much to the joy of Cardinal and King; who will not readily re fuse him in any reasonable point at present. There came no new Massacre upon the poor People of the Valleys; their grievances were again settled,' scared away for a season, by negotiation.

DEATH OF THE PROTECTOR.

'THERE remain no more Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell for us; the above is the last of them of either kind. As a Speaker to men, he takes his leave of the world, in these final words addressed to his Second Parliament, on the 4th of February 1657-8: "God be judge between you and me !”—So was it appointed by the Destinies and the Oblivions; these were his last public words.

Other Speeches, in that crisis of Oliver's affairs, we have already heard of; 'Speech of two hours' to his Officers in Whitehall; Speech to the Lord Mayor and Common Council, in the same place, on the same subject: but they have not been reported, or the report of them has not come down to us. There were domestic Letters also, as we still find, written in those same tumultuous weeks; Letters to the Earl of Warwick, on occasion of the death of his Grandson, the Protector's Sonin-law. For poor young Mr. Rich, whom we saw wedded in November last, is dead.1 He died on the twelfth day after that Dissolution of the Parliament; while Oliver and the Coinmon

Ayscough MSS., no. 4107, f. 89.

56 Thursday, 3d June 1658 (Thurloe, vii. 155-6).

VOL. V.

16th Feb. 1657-8 (Newspapers in Cromwelliana, p. 170)

L

wealth are wrestling against boundless Anarchies, Oliver's own Household has its visitations and dark days. Poor little Frances Cromwell, in the fourth month of her marriage, still only about seventeen, she finds herself suddenly a widow; and Hampton Court has become a house of mourning. Young Rich was much lamented. Oliver condoled with the Grandfather'in seasonable and sympathising Letters; for which the brave old Earl rallies himself to make some gratefulest Reply ;2. "Cannot "enough confess my obligation, much less discharge it, for your seasonable and sympathising Letters; which, besides "the value they derive from so worthy a hand, express such "faithful affections, and administer such Christian advices as "renders them beyond measure dear to me." Blessings, and noble eulogies, the outpouring of a brave old heart, conclude this Letter of Warwick's. He himself died shortly after ;3 a new grief to the Protector.-The Protector was delivering the Commonwealth from Hydras and fighting a world-wide battle, while he wrote those Letters on the death of young Rich. If by chance they still lie hidden in the archives of some kinsman of the Warwicks, they may yet be disimprisoned and made audible. Most probably they too are lost. And so we have now nothing more;—and Oliver has nothing more. His Speakings, and also his Actings, all his manifold Strugglings, more or less victorious, to utter the great God's-Message that was in him, have here what we call ended. This Summer of 1658, likewise victorious after struggle, is his last in our World of Time. Thenceforth he enters the Eternities; and rests upon his arms there.

Oliver's look was yet strong; and young for his years,* which were Fifty-nine last April. The 'Three-score and ten years,' the Psalmist's limit, which probably was often in Oliver's thoughts and in those of others there, might have been anti cipated for him: Ten Years more of Life ;-which, we may compute, would have given another History to all the Centuries of England. But it was not to be so, it was to be otherwise. Oliver's health, as we might observe, was but uncertain in late times; often 'indisposed' the spring before last. His course of

2 Earl of Warwick to the Lord Protector, date 11th March 1657-8; printed is Godwin, iv. 528. 4 Heath.

3 19th Apri! 1658 (Thurloe, vii. 85).

life had not been favourable to health! "A burden too heavy for man!" as he himself, with a sigh, would sometimes say. Incessant toil; inconceivable labour, of head and heart and hand; toil, peril, and sorrow manifold, continued for near Twenty years now, had done their part: those robust life-energies, it afterwards appeared, had been gradually eaten out. Like a Tower strong to the eye, but with its foundations undermined; which has not long to stand; the fall of which, on any shock, may be sudden.—

The Manzinis and Ducs de Crequi, with their splendours, and congratulations about Dunkirk, interesting to the streetpopulations and general public, had not yet withdrawn, when at Hampton Court there had begun a private scene, of much deeper and quite opposite interest there. The Lady Claypole, Oliver's favourite Daughter, a favourite of all the world, had fallen sick we know not when; lay sick now,-to death, as it proved. Her disease was of internal female nature; the painfulest and most harassing to mind and sense, it is understood, that falls to the lot of a human creature. Hampton Court we can fancy once more, in those July days, a house of sorrow; pale Death knocking there, as at the door of the meanest hut. · She had great sufferings, great exercises of spirit.' Yes :— and in the depths of the old Centuries, we see a pale anxious Mother, anxious Husband, anxious weeping Sisters, a poor young Frances weeping anew in her weeds. For the last fourteen days' his Highness has been by her bedside at Hampton Court, unable to attend to any public business whatever.6 Be still, my Child; trust thou yet in God: in the waves of the Dark River, there too is He a God of help!—On the 6th day of August she lay dead; at rest forever. My young, my beautiful, my brave! She is taken from me; I am left bereaved of her. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the Name of the Lord!—

'His Highness,' says Harvey,7 'being at Hampton Court, 'sickened a little before the Lady Elizabeth died. Her decease was on Friday 6th August 1658; she having lain long under

5 Doctor Bates, on examination post mortem.

6 Thurloe, vii. 295 (27th July 1658).

7 A Collection of several Passages concerning his late Highness Oliver Cromwell, in the Time of his Sickness; wherein is related many of his Expressis upon his Deathbed, together with his Prayer within two or three Days before his Death. Written by one that was then Groom of his Bedchamber. (King's Pamphlets, sm. 4to, no. 792, art. 22: London, 9th June 1659.)

3 Sept. 'great extremity of bodily pain, which, with frequent and violent convulsion-fits, brought her to her end. But as to his Highness, it was observed that his sense of her outward misery, ' in the pains she endured, took deep impression upon him; who 'indeed was ever a most indulgent and tender Father ;-his 'affections' too 'being regulated and bounded by such Chris'tian wisdom and prudence, as did eminently shine in fillingup not only that relation of a Father, but also all other relations; wherein he was a most rare and singular example. And no doubt but the sympathy of his spirit with his sorely ' afflicted and dying Daughter' did break him down at this time; 'considering also,'-innumerable other considerations of sufferings and toils, which made me often wonder he was able to 'hold-up so long; except' indeed 'that he was borne up by a 'Supernatural Power at a more than ordinary rate. As a mercy 'to the truly Christian World, and to us of these Nations, had 'we been worthy of him!'—

The same authority, who unhappily is not chronological, adds elsewhere this little picture, which we must take with us: 'At Hampton Court, a few days after the death of the Lady 'Elizabeth, which touched him nearly, -being then himself ' under bodily distempers, forerunners of that Sickness which ' was to death, and in his bedchamber,—he called for his Bible, ' and desired an honourable and godly person there, with others, present, To read unto him that passage in Philippians Fourth: • “Not that I speak in respect of want; for I have learned in 'whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both 'how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere, and by all things, I am instructed; both to be full and to be hungry, ⚫ both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things, through • Christ which strengtheneth me.' "'8 Which read, said he, to use his own words as near as I can remember them: 66 This 'Scripture did once save my life; when my eldest Son"' poor Robert9" died; which went as a dagger to my heart, indeed ' it did." And then repeating the words of the text himself, ' and reading the tenth and eleventh verses, of Paul's contenta'tion, and submission to the will of God in all conditions,'said he: "It's true, Paul, you have learned this, and attained

8 Philippians, iv. 11, 12, 13.

9 A blank in the Pamphlet here: not 'Oliver' as hitherto supposed (、ee vol. i. p 166), but 'Robert' (ibid. p 41): see vol. i. pp. 109, 166.

Ah poor

'to this measure of grace: but what shall I do? 'creature, it is a hard lesson for me to take out! I find it so!" 'But reading on to the thirteenth verse, where Paul saith, “Į 'can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me,"—then 'faith began to work, and his heart to find support and comfort, ' and he said thus to himself, "He that was Paul's Christ is my • Christ too!" And so drew waters out of the well of Salvation.',

In the same dark days, occurred George Fox's third and last interview with Oliver. Their first interview we have seen. The second, which had fallen out some two years ago, did not prosper quite so well. George, riding into Town' one evening,' with some 'Edward Pyot' or other broadbrimmed man, espied the Protector at Hyde Park Corner among his Guards,' and made up to his carriage-window, in spite of opposition; and was altogether cordially welcomed there. But on the following day, at Whitehall, the Protector spake lightly;' he sat down loosely 'on a table,' and ‘spake light things to me,'-in fact, rather quizzed me; finding my enormous sacred Self-confidence none of the least of my attainments !10 Such had been our second interview; here now is the third and last.-George dates nothing; and his facts everywhere lie round him like the leatherparings of his old shop: but we judge it may have been about the time when the Manzinis and Ducs de Crequi were parading in their gilt coaches, That George and two Friends 'going out of Town,' on a summer day, 'two of Hacker's men' had met them,-taken them, brought them to the Mews. 'Prisoners there a while:'—but the Lord's power was over Hacker's men; they had to let us go. Whereupon:

• The same day, taking boat I went down' (up) 'to Kings'ton, and from thence to Hampton Court, to speak with the • Protector about the Sufferings of Friends. I met him riding ' into Hampton-Court Park; and before I came to him, as he ⚫ rode at the head of his Lifeguard, I saw and felt a waft' (whiff) ' of death go forth against him.'- -Or in favour of him, George? His life, if thou knew it, has not been a merry thing for this man, now or heretofore! I fancy he has been looking, this long while, to give it up, whenever the Commander-inChief required. To quit his laborious sentry-post; honourably lay-up his arms, and be gone to his rest :-all Eternity to rest Was thy own life merry, for example, in the

in, O George!

10 Fox's Journal, i. 381-2.